Tales of Dragons and an Irishman: Origins
by McHartson22
Summary: A young war-weary Irishman and his firehawk stumble into a pair of strangers that just might help explain where his great flaming reptile comes from. And more. This is a small sub-story of my main series.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys! So, this little story explains (in a little more detail) how and why Freya and Gunnar had met before the main story. I would highly suggest reading a few chapters from there before reading this one- i wrote this on a tangent and doesn't really explain who the characters are or where the story takes place, but it is a good little anecdote with a few funny moments and it helps clear up Gunnar's background. Including why exactly he had left his homeland to try to find New Berk. _

_For those of you who are reading this before my main story, here's a little summary: Gunnar is an Irish outlaw of sorts with a Titanwing Nadder named Shock. The two of them are in the middle of a one-man war against an evil warlord of sorts somewhere in the North of Ireland. Freya Haddock, the youngest child of Hiccup and Astrid, along with her close friend and her dragon (the female nightlight whose name is Flashbang), are taking an exploratory trip far south of New Berk. _

_Anyways, although the main story isn't finished, i figured that since this little side story is i'd go ahead and publish it. I know it doesn't have a lot of actual HtTyD stuff, but the whole point of this story is to help explain _why_ there is an Irishman in New Berk. Also, the Irish name for dragons are firehawks. Anywhoo, enjoy!_

Chapter 1- Something New

It was a dark, creepy, night. The lone banner of a flaming, horned skull floated over the small fort, deep in sleep. Guards grumbled about their rounds, and the soldiers in the watchtower were fighting a losing battle against their eyelids. In the woods surrounding the base, a solitary figure lurked. A simple visor covered his face, but one slit revealed bright, intense eyes, staring at the fort shrouded in darkness.

The figure crept ever closer to the walls. The watchman in the nearest tower did not hear the quiet sound of death being knocked in the string of a bow. Nor did he feel the barbed shaft pierce his throat from below and silently drop him. The guard on the wall turned at the sound of the heavy body, shrugged and walked on. Followed by a shadow that wasn't his own.

Moving on from his second kill of the night, the armored shadow crept long the full length of the perimeter of the fort, silently killing each guard with lethal efficiency. He climbed half way up a now-empty watchtower and surveyed the camp. He was now the only soul awake and alive. Time for the next phase.

This raid was a terror raid. The occupants of this fort recently just got back from attacking another helpless village in 'retaliation' for some imagined crime. It was payback time. Although he could just kill them all in their sleep like he did the guards, he wanted to play with his victims first. Why? He wanted to give them a taste of their own medicine. Utter Terror. Gunnar still held on to what soldiers under the same banner did to him and his family- to his friends. And he was the only one around with the power to strike back.

He dashed noiselessly around the camp, setting up his 'message' for when the occupants woke up. He was done within minutes. Silently running back out of the camp, he let loose a low whistle. Swinging up onto his firehawk's saddle with the agility and efficiency of an elf, the pair of them were gone and flying into the soupy black sky within seconds. Those Raiders were gonna wake up to a nightmare.

Later that day he was sitting in the corner of a nearby town's tavern listening to the local talk. He heard the townsfolk talking about another attack from the Outlaw on nearby Dreadlacian fort. The normal whispered "good riddances" went around the huddled circles. But he had heard them a thousand times. The usual satisfaction was no longer there. He was tired. Not physically, since he was at his peak physical capabilities, but mentally.

He had been doing things like last night's attacks for the past two years now, and it was getting old. He didn't know what else to do with himself though. All he knew was fighting. Killing the enemy. What else could he do? It had its thrill. Oh, he _lived_ for the heat of combat. That's when he felt most alive. But in the off times he began to feel something he never in a thousand years could imagine he would feel; guilt. That feeling he couldn't figure out. They deserved every arrow shaft and fire blast- _that_ was for sure. He would just have to remember the first time he laid eyes on his village after The Defeat. The stunned shock. The desperate hopeless search. The churning rage. _That_ still fueled him. But something inside was telling him to move on. He was only 17 for crying out loud. His peers were still _kids_. He still had his whole life ahead of him.

But what else to do? He didn't want to stay in his beloved Ireland. To many painful memories. Too much danger. Then were else to go? What else to set his mind to? He couldn't think of an answer. Not an answer that didn't involve his sword or his bow.

As he sat in the corner, staring at his half-empty mug, lost in thought, movement from the stairs caught his eye. Two girls about his age were coming down the stairs. He dismissed them as locals. Suddenly his head snapped back up at them as they paid the innkeeper. One of the girls, a tall, confident, brown haired one, had two disks on her shoulders. The designs on them weren't Irish. He stared intently at the disk. Was that a firehawk? It didn't look like Shock… then he caught sight of the shy, black-haired one's belt buckle. THAT was a firehawk, just not like any type he had seen before.

He was interested now. How did they know what firehawks were? Where were they from? Could they help him figure out where Shock was from? He watched them as they walked outside. Quickly looking out a nearby window, he saw them head toward the Eastern Gate of the town. He turned around and went up to the innkeeper, who was carefully examining the foreign money he was just paid with.

"Excuse me, but can I ask you a question?"

The innkeeper looked up, recognized Gunnar, and nodded as he put the money away.

"Those two girls- they weren't local, were they?"

The innkeeper looked at him strangely. "No, tat they weren't. From up North they said tey were from. What's it to ye, Paddy?"

Gunnar sat down on a stool and wiped his forehead. "I just noticed that they had firehawks on their belt buckles and satchels. Somethin' tells me that they might know more about 'em and whether or not they exist."

The old innkeeper nodded. "Oh aye, I noticed their decorations te, don't ye worry. Yor probably right, m'lad, _if_ firehawks do exist. _If_ ye believe the stories about the Outlaw and all tat."

Gunnar nodded. "I tend to believe them- to an extent. However, I think those two might confirm some of those legends, is all. Did they say where they were headed?"

"Not t'me directly, but I did overher them say they were goin' ferther south."

"I'd tell them to be careful. Those two are a ripe target for Dreadlac's Raiders."

"I donno, lad. That tall one looked like she knew what she was doin' with tat ax. They were Vikings, after all. I heard that the Viking women are just as dangerous fighters as their men, but I wouldn't know."

"They're Vikings?!"

"Oh aye, it's obvious. Have ye never seen one before? We do have a couple come down here every so often."

"Noooo… I'm from farther south."

"Ah. I forgot."

"Would you do me a favor?"

"Depends. Watcha need, lad?"

"If I paid you, would you mind giving me one of those coins?"

"If ye pay me its fair value, ten we have a deal."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Boo!

Gunnar walked out of the town with his newly purchased Viking coin. He had carefully placed it within a leather pouch to avoid contaminating the scent with his own. As he disappeared into the woods, he flicked back his hood and whistled. Shock was there in an instant. Gunnar grinned and stroked his head.

"Hey big boy. Guess who I saw in town?"

The big firehawk tilted his head in interest.

"I saw two Vikings in town with an interesting design on their belts and shoulder disks. Can you guess what was on there?"

Shock tilted his head to the other side and blinked.

Gunnar chuckled. "Firehawks, bud. Types I've never seen before. You think that they know where to find other firehawks?"

The big beast's eyes went wide, and his head jerked back in surprise. Then he bent back forward and studied Gunnar closely to see if he was kidding.

"No joke. Guess what's in this pouch? One of their coins. See? You think you can trace 'em? They left the village not an hour ago."

Gunnar opened up his poach and showed Shock the coin. Shock twisted his head to put his right eye almost in the pouch, then turned and took a deep sniff. He paused for a second, then took another long sniff. He then thrust his nose into the air and tested the winds. Squawking, he gestured for Gunnar to mount up. He had caught the scent.

Gunnar grinned. Well, he thought, here's something to do. Let's go find these Vikings. He swung onto Shock's saddle and they were off.

They flew and traced by night. Although Gunnar was expecting to catch up within a couple minutes of flight, it took them a full _2 days_ to finally catch up to the pair, reinforcing Gunnar's suspicions that the Vikings were riding their own firehawks.

They were flying in a relatively clear night with the lights of Birvin (a rather nasty excuse for a village) twinkling in the distance when it happened. He was perched up on Shocks back absent-mindedly scanning the blank woods passing below. He suddenly felt Shock tense up underneath him and give a quiet squawk at the exact same moment he saw a campfire in the middle of the woods. It wasn't near any roads or houses, and it was actually in a semi-inaccessible location on the side of a mountain.

Shock was quivering underneath him. He was obviously picking up a scent completely new to the veteran tracker. Gunnar flicked his mask down and sent Shock on a gentle descending spiral toward the south of the glowing campfire. Once they landed, he gave quiet instructions to Shock to begin circling and when to land. Gunnar headed to the voices in the distance on foot.

As he approached, bow in hand, he began to clearly pick out the clear, soft voices of the two Viking girls talking to each other, although he didn't have a visual yet. They seemed to be arguing about something as they prepped for bed.

A clear, beautiful voice was the first one he heard plainly. "What do you mean 'your dad won't like it'? If we do it right dad won't ever have to find out."

A softer, more quiet voice answered. "Freya, you said we wouldn't go this far south. This town is going to be stretching it already. We already found out that this area is under occupation from somebody. If we get in trouble there'll be no one to help us."

"Relax Annika. It'll be fine. We're not even going to be in town for that long, all we are going to be doing is checking out the area and the sights. Anyways, there's no dragons down here, so if we do get in trouble Flash and Sparkle'll scare the locals and get us out. Well, Flash will at least."

"Hey! Sparkle can be scary too!"

"Uh huh. Sure."

Gunnar had reached the edge of the clearing and was surveying the pair from a crouch in some bushes. The shy sounding one was sitting on a log worriedly poking the fire as they talked. She was somewhat fragile looking, with long straight black hair that hung loose around her shoulders.

The other one, that Gunnar assumed was Freya, was sharpening her ax as she cheerfully parried her friend's concerns. She was tall, brown-haired, with a good posture and a confident manner. But Gunnar wasn't looking at the girls. His attention was focused on the beasts sleeping next to their riders.

The one that caught his eye first was a small firehawk that seemed to be able to change colors but not… control it? It was curled up in a ball napping behind the black-haired girl with purplish-yellow stripes rotating along its body. It had a large chin, a small neck, and two large legs, sort of like Shock but… wimpier. And it had two excuses for arms on its front.

As he was studying this one, he saw movement against the shadows. He looked hard at it. Nothing was there, but something seemed- off at that spot. He was about to dismiss it when the most incredible thing happened. A large cat-like dragon appeared from the thin air right in front of his eyes.

It was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. It was the color of fresh snow all over, except its spines, claws, wingtips, ear tips, and its tail were jet black. It moved with a fluid grace unlike he ever thought possible. What was even more amazing was that the girls didn't even flinch. In fact, the timid one just ignored the sight and the tall one said in a bored manner: "Hey Flash. Done hunting?"

'Flash', as its name appeared to be, just (…meowed?) and settled down next to the fire with a fish in its mouth. Gunnar was thunderstruck. Where had that white firehawk come from? How could it do that? Could all firehawks do that? He subconsciously put his arrow back in his quiver and put his bow back as he stared. Clearly, this wasn't a trap. So… now what?

The tall one pointed her ax at the other girl. "Listen, I promise this'll be the last village we visit before we head back. We still have a good week and a half to be back. We'll go check out that village, then we'll be heading home. That simple. We'll still be well within our timeframe."

Gunnar stood up and took a step into the light. "If you mean the town down in the valley, I wouldn't suggest it."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- New Purpose

The group's reaction was actually a little hilarious. The black-haired girl emitted a single squeak, took one look at Gunnar's mask, and passed out on top of her slumbering firehawk. The beast, upon being so rudely awakened by its rider and noticing the confusion around it, burst into a symphony of red, yellow, and green splotches and promptly jumped into a nearby tree. This movement unceremoniously dumped its rider into the dirt so all that was visible was a pair of yak-fur boots hanging over the now-vacant log.

The tall girl jumped and entered a fighting pose with her ax pointed at Gunnar with a ferocious glare. Her firehawk jumped 5 feet straight into the air with all limbs ram-rod straight and then landed with an equally ferocious glare directed at Gunnar. The girl then looked in surprise at her friend out cold in the dirt. Gunnar's eyebrows went up.

He was the first to speak. "Wow. Didn't know Vikings did that."

The tall girl's head snapped back toward Gunnar and she took a step toward him still pointing her ax. She sputtered. "Wha.. She's a special case! Who are you and where in the name of Thor's Hammer did you come from?! Talk or I'll have Flash blow you to Valhalla!"

Gunnar raised his hands. "Hey, take it easy. Sorry for jumping you like that. I just wanted to talk to you about your firehawks."

He could see curiosity start to engage wariness on her face. Her stance didn't change, though. "Our what? 'Firehawks'? Do ya mean our _dragons_?"

"Sure. Is that what you call them?"

"Well, yeah, in general they all have separate classes and species names wi… Stop stalling and answer my question! Who are you?"

He shrugged, hands still raised shoulder height. "It's probably best you don't know my real name, but you can call me Archer."

"Archer? Do people really call you that?"

"Depends on who you talk to."

"Pbpthb. Sure. What is it that you want?"

"Well… I have a firehawk myself. I… don't know where he came from, and up until this point I thought he was the only firehawk- dragon- that existed. I thought you might be able to give me some more information on him and where he is from."

The tall girl's ax dropped. She studied his faceless mask curiously. "You have a dragon? _Here_? Really? What kind is he? Can I see him?"

"Sure. He's circling right now."

He emitted a low long whistle and looked up. The girl did the same as did the firehawk in the tree, but the white one still kept her eyes locked on Gunnar, eyes in thin distrusting slits. Shock came plummeting down from the black starless night and impacted the ground behind Gunnar with a earth-shaking slam. A squeak came from behind the logs that the black-haired girl had disappeared behind, along with a sudden scrabble as she tried to find her feet.

The white dragon growled at the newcomer, but her rider just looked at Shock in awe. "A Deadly Nadder, but not any kind I've seen before. He's really big. And scarred up. What happened to him? Was it the Dragon Hunters?"

Gunnar glanced at her. "Uhh… The who now?"

At this moment the black-haired girl popped up from behind the log and looked at the huge dragon in the clearing. "Oh! A Titanwing Deadly Nadder! What a discovery! He looks almost the size of a fully-grown Monstrous Nightmare!"

The tall girl looked at her friend. "Oh good, you're awake. You OK?"

She shrugged. "Why wouldn't I b- who's that?!"

"Uhhh… the big dragon's rider."

"What's he doing this far south? There aren't any dragons down this far."

Freya shrugged in mock annoyance. "I don't know. Ask him."

Gunnar shook his head in response to the girl's questioning glance. "I have no idea. I was hoping you could answer that question for me. I found his egg a long time ago, even farther south than here. Your firehawks are the only other firehawks I've seen."

She wasn't listening. She was fascinated with what the big Nadder was doing. Upon landing, he had stood stock-still, eyeing the two dragons in front of him. And as his rider conversed with the two Vikings, he had begun slowly approaching the dragon who wasn't actively baring her fangs at him, the one who had just dis-mounted the tree.

First, he approached in a circle manner, warily sniffing at the curious dragon in front of him. Then he inched closer, stretching his neck out farther than Gunnar thought possible. He made a quiet chirping noise deep in his throat, which the other dragon answered. He started circling, examining and sniffing, all the while receiving the same treatment.

The black-haired girl was studying the interaction in front of her with her dragon with a rapt expression on her face. "Wow. It's like he's never seen another dragon before."

"Annika, he just said that. Hey, stranger, what'd ya mean 'you wouldn't suggest visiting that town'? is there something we should be keeping an eye out for?"

"It's under active occupation right now. It used to be perfectly safe but there's currently a battalion of Raiders temporarily staying in the town and uh… two ladies your age just waltzing in is _extremely_ dangerous. The chances of you getting out of there without trouble is about near zero."

The tall girl's eyebrows went up and her ax dropped completely. "Wow. People would actually do that here?"

Gunnar sighed. "The people here? No. My fellow Gaels are normally very hospitable. But the damn foreigners in charge? They're animals. Rabid, violent, animals. So yes, yes they would."

Annika shuddered. "This is probably not the right time to say this, but… told you so, Freya."

Freya sighed and put her ax down. "Yeah, you did. Well, thanks for the warning. We'll probably head back tomorrow and skip the visit."

"No problem. Where are you guys from? If you uh… don't mind me asking. Well, actually, a better question: is that you name? Freya?"

Freya sat down and took her burnt fish off of the fire. Her firehawk settled down but still kept a sharp eye on the newcomers. "Yeah, that's me. I'm Freya Haddock, and she's Annika Jorgenson. This is Flashbang-" she gave the defensive white dragon a pat "My Nightlight, and that's" a quick point to the teal and gold dragon circling the Nadder "Sparklegrunt, Ann's Hobblegrunt. We're from New Berk. Sort of the central place of dragon-training Vikings."

Gunnar's eyebrows went up (again) "You guys are _Berkians_? That place exists?!"

The brown-haired girl looked slightly surprised at his reaction. "Well… Yeah. You should drop by some time. Just head north until you hit the Archipelago and look for the Island Above the Clouds. With a dragon you'll find it. I can't tell you where your dragon is from, but my dad definitely will."

"Huh. Maybe I will. I don't really- well- I don't really have anything better to do. So yeah. I think I will, at some point." Freya gave him a queer look. Annika was busy introducing herself to Shock, and his rider still stood awkwardly off to the side, watching the exchange with wonder radiating through his mask.

"Why don't you put your visor up?" He snapped his attention back to Freya. After a second he shrugged and leaned against a tree. "Policy. I'm a- well, I'm a freedom fighter. Of sorts. I can't afford having strangers recognize my face and match it to my armor."

Freya nodded understandingly as she reached for a fresh fish. "I can respect that. I've heard stories of the people here. The occupiers. How's the fighting?"

He shook his head with a chuckle. "Interesting question, for a foreign girl. Its- its scattered. Fierce, but scattered. The only ones of us that can really engage these guys are those that don't have- well, anything. No family, no home, no nothing. Thus it's almost impossible to coordinate strikes or anything like that, so its all lone wolf stuff. Lucky for us, that's right up our alley."

She tilted her head curiously. "You're not from this area?"

He shook his head, marveling at how easily Annika was making friends with his firehawk. "No. I've never been settled down in one spot for too long. I tried once, and then Dreadlac's men showed up, and it's back down to me and him. We've been following them north. Helping wherever we can."

They talked for about an hour longer, the conversation proving enlightening for both parties. Gunnar finally noticed the position of the moon and stood up from the edge of the camp. "Well, I should get out of your hair. It's getting late, and I've got things to do before morning. I might see you again."

Freya stood up and nodded, holding out her hand. "Hopefully we will. Thanks again for the warning."

He gave it a firm shake, silently noting her solid grip. "No problem. I just don't want anybody's trip into my fair country to be ruined like that. Thanks for all of the information."

Well, he thought as he flew away, I think I have an idea on where to go next. Let's see if we can find out a little bit more about ol' Shock and maybe get out of the warzone for a little bit. I could use the vacation.

"How about it big guy? You wanna find some of your fellows? Maybe take a break from fighting?"

The big dragon roared in both affirmation and in farewell to the firehawks on the ground below him. They disappeared North into the star-studded sky, their future a little brighter.


End file.
